


these are my sins

by TWDObsessive



Series: Rickyl Poetry [2]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Hurt, Hurt Rick, Poetry, Poetry freeverse, Rickyl Writers' Group, Sorrow, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 11:20:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6751861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWDObsessive/pseuds/TWDObsessive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I can't shake the emotions on Rick's face in the season 6 finale, Rick on his knees along with all of his family.  This poem is what I think he's feeling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	these are my sins

i carry wounds and worry  
the weight of a thousand deaths,  
i bundle the broken pieces of what gets left  
and all i see is damage, blurry  
i make each decision  
and it’s ink on my flesh  
it's steel, concrete  
i carry it all  
mine.

i swim, tied heavy to rock  
i'll never breathe again.  
every lashing arm and kicking foot  
drags me deeper  
darker  
wrecks me, empty.  
i want to fix and build and mend  
heal and grow whole again  
but pieces are missing  
body parts  
eyes, hands, legs

these are mine;  
a hand, cuffed  
a leg, cut  
an eye, claimed

these are mine;  
a mother’s last breath and a baby’s cry  
a friend’s warm blood  
a daughter lost in thick woods  
and more. like snowflakes  
one  
and another  
mine.

these are all mine  
on our knees, helpless  
i've signed the death warrant  
my handwriting shaky  
my heartbeat breaking  
my breaths are taken

one will die  
and that is mine.  
i will wear their wound, their blood  
i will be left raw, aching  
and i know I'm breaking.  
it won't be me to go  
i am made to suffer  
i am made to pick up scattered pieces  
my house made of breeze and whisper  
nothing solid  
nothing 

i carry each of them to death  
i will walk them into the wind  
i hold their hand  
and i promise to them.  
they are not lies in my mind  
i take their fear and their pain  
and they go  
one  
and another again  
like peace in the breeze  
and i am left behind each  
mine.

i carrying the weight of them  
heavy in my heart  
they go free and i am left with pieces  
brutal ends  
sorrow  
screams that never cease  
and each one sinks me  
bends me.  
i am on my knees  
i count my sins, my scars on the inside  
these are mine.


End file.
